


Fairy Lights

by SillyLioness



Series: Not Exactly Legal (Modern AU) [3]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Not Exactly Legal AU, pointless christmassy fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 15:52:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5545889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SillyLioness/pseuds/SillyLioness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bull and Johnny think about decorating their crappy flat (because it can't get any worse, can it?).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fairy Lights

**Author's Note:**

> Merry (belated) Christmas and holidays you all and a happy new year!

It’s dark outside when Bull and Johnny get home. It’s not actually a surprise, considering that it gets dark not long after five in the evening. Bull opens the door to their flat while Johnny complains about the people in the subway. The passion with which Johnny hates going by subway or bus is astonishing. On the other hand Bull can’t blame him for his dislike of using public transport. It’s annoying, loud and not exactly private. He follows Johnny inside after he pushes the door open. Bull hears Johnny sigh contently, it’s nice to be home. The evening at Harry and Kitty’s had been wonderful. Kitty’s cooking is legendary and her Christmas dinner is even more than that. The amount of food - let alone the incredible taste - is stunning. Bull closes the door and kicks the shoes off his feet. 

Johnny is already dozing on the couch when Bull joins him in their cramped living room. He’s glad though that Johnny sleeps, because he had to get up at 4a.m. today because of his job and in the past few weeks he barely slept. Maybe it is his nerves or something, but whatever it is, Bull is worried about him. Johnny groans as Bull sits down and looks at him - murderous for the fraction of a second, but then his face softens and he sits up to give Bull more space. 

“Get back to sleep,” Bull mumbles and stretches his aching legs. The seats in the subway are far too close together for someone of his size.

“Hm, I’ll try,” Johnny says, promising nothing, and lays his head down on Bull’s lap.   
“I don’t even know if I said that to you or not, but Merry Christmas, Bull.” Johnny’s soft smile, contrary to his usual expression of being constantly stressed and angered, makes Bull smile as well. 

“Yeah, Merry Christmas. Maybe, next year, we could buy a tree. You know, i f we got the money.” Bull’s probably on thin ice. Johnny dislikes all this - quote - “cheesy Christmas shit. For fuck’s sake, it’s Jesus’ birthday not the feast of ugly-ass decoration and sweets and crap”. 

“I don’t know...it’d be nice I guess. A Christmas tree is alright.” Johnny doesn’t say that he thinks that it would be a cute and domestic thing to do as a couple - buying a Christmas tree (what’s up with him, for real? Must be the sleep deprivation). Bull nods and leans over the armrest to get the fuzzy blanket that they got from Kitty last year. Carefully he drapes it over Johnny and himself and rests his hand on Johnny’s waist, rubbing small circles on his back sometimes. Johnny yawns almost immediately and closes his eyes again. Bull is too good to him. 

“Come here,” he mumbles, when he notices Bull’s eyelids drooping, “There’s plenty of room for us both, huh?” Johnny pulls Bull down to him and kisses him quickly, before Bull yawns as well and drapes his arm around Johnny, pulling him closer. 

“We also have to get Christmas balls for the tree,” Johnny says, when Bull is fully rested next to him, breathing evenly. 

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. We’ll handle it. We also need fairy lights. I think they’d look nice, y’know.” Johnny nods, because it’s simpler to hide that he already grew fond of the idea, when he doesn’t talk. 

“Hm, but, good night Bull, sleep well.” 

“Yeah, ya too. How about we bake cookies tomorrow?”


End file.
